The Northeast, with its long history, is home to many small and often overlooked cemeteries. As those involved in caring for them are getting older, many burial grounds face an uncertain future or have been abandoned, with overgrown, unreadable headstones.
WAMC’s Southern Adirondack Bureau Chief Lucas Willard brings us the story of one Saratoga County resident, who after losing his daughter, dedicated his life to caring for final resting places…
“And I didn't even know that, in one sense, the Jonesville Cemetery existed until it was suggested to me by the funeral director, he said, ‘Yeah, did you consider Jonesville?’ I said, ‘No.’ So once my daughter was interred in this cemetery, my first concern was the fence.”
On a shady, summer morning in the Jonesville Cemetery in Clifton Park, Ed Hughes points out the black steel fence that borders the graveyard.
In 2004, Ed’s daughter Sue died in a car crash at age 28. When he got to the park-like cemetery designed in the mid-19th Century, he thought that the 1910 wrought-iron fence needed an upgrade. So, he went to the cemetery’s board of directors.
“And I asked the Jonesville Cemetery board, at what point are you going…Are you considering replacing that fence? And they said, ‘Oh, we've been talking about it.’ And looking through the minutes, I discovered that they had been talking about it for 10 years.”
Ed did some research. It would cost $20,000 to build a new fence around the 11-acre cemetery. He brought the estimate back to the board.
“At that point, they said, ‘Well, that's a lot of money. And we're not going to be able to spend that kind of money out of our operating budget.’ So, I said, ‘I'll tell you what I'll do. I will have a fundraiser.’”
The fundraiser was a success and generated $10,000. But that was only half the amount needed and the board couldn’t pay for the rest.
Then, Ed says, two or three months later, a letter came from a lawyer in nearby Ballston Spa. The letter informed Ed about a person named Leslie Van Kampen, who was interred in the Jonesville Cemetery.
“Leslie Van Kampen had passed away several years ago and was going to leave some money to the Jonesville Cemetery. The superintendent and I filled out the paperwork. He went up, picked up an envelope came back, and in that envelope was a check for $10,000 specifically stated for a new fence. So, Leslie Van Kampen had recognized that there was a need for that fence. At that point we had $20,000 the fence went in and putting the fence in the cemetery had a new life because it was no longer considered by many as an abandoned cemetery.”
Ed end up joining the board in 2006. When the new fence was completed a couple years later, Ed, a retired educator, had more projects he wanted to tackle.
“I am a person…I'm focused on goals. And when I first got involved in the cemetery, actually the first year, I looked around here, and I made a list of 30 goals that I thought needed to be accomplished in the cemetery. I shared it with the board. And they say ‘oh, there's too many, too many goals there.’ And I said ‘yes, but you know, over time….’”
For years, the Jonesville Cemetery was limited in what it could do. It relied on its superintendent John Davey to cut the grass himself – all 11 acres.
When the board decided to hire a crew to take care of the landscaping, the cemetery needed more revenue to offset the costs. So, Ed got involved in selling lots.
“John's wife, Norma, who's the secretary, was the secretary, she was the one who sold property. She said, ‘Ed, I think this is something you could do.’ And I was nervous about doing that. Because this is the cemetery, there's a lot to know about selling property. Because there were no maps, there was nothing. She would just say to me, ‘Ed, this spot is open, you could sell this, you could sell this over here, you could sell that over there.’ And there were times when I was walking around, I would say to somebody, ‘Well, here's a good spot.’ And I would start to write it up. And I said, ‘But I have to check it out with Norma.’ And then checking it out with Norma, Norma would say, ‘No, that's sold.’ For example, like this looking spot, that's sold.
Well, I said, ‘How,’ to Norma, ‘how would I ever know that?’ She said, ‘You wouldn't know that. There was no way to know that.’ So, I started developing mapping. And I worked for basically 10 years in developing a mapping system for the cemetery.”
More projects were checked off Ed’s list. The pricing system was updated after a man and his brother said they wanted to purchase 20 lots. He built a website and wrote a newsletter. A veteran’s memorial was built to recognize the soldiers in Jonesville – dating all the way back to the Civil War. As more people became interested in helping, donations covered the improvements.
Ed sold lots for 15 years and the small cemetery that some might have considered abandoned once upon a time, he says, is filling up.
“We’re probably coming to capacity pretty soon. I would say 10 more years, we will have reached our capacity. So, it's a smaller, homier, friendlier, relaxed feeling in this cemetery compared to the larger cemeteries.”
Ed said he chose Jonesville for his daughter Sue because it was close to home. As he spent more time in the place with its leafy trees and rolling hills, he became curious about the others laid to rest there.
“So, I wanted a place that I could visit. And so, she was interred here and I would come every day. And part of coming every day meant that I had more and more time to look around the cemetery. And as I did, so, I became more and more familiar with the names on the stones, and I started looking into their past, I wanted to know what their story was.
I'll tell you about one stone I came upon, it was in the back. And it was an old stone. And there was just one name, a small name, it was two inches tall – Ira Derby.
And I asked myself, ‘Who are you, Ira Derby? What is your story?’ Well, I couldn't find out Ira Derby’s story because it was too long ago. But as I looked at other stones in here, I could find the stories. So when I gave tours, and that's another thing I started here tours, I would tell people about this, the stories of the people who have left the act of life, to a life of peace, and quiet.
And in doing so more and more people became interested in hearing my stories. Because that's what this is about.
This is not only historic spot, it's also a place where we tell the stories of people who lived in Clifton Park, and made their contributions, they go back to 1799. That's the oldest stone we have in the cemetery. And people like that.”
Having gone through the painful process of choosing a final resting place for his daughter, Ed also began sharing his own story with grieving families.
“In sharing my story and about Sue, I'm making my connection with the people who are coming into the cemetery. Our loss is overwhelming. And that's true of most people who come in here.
I remember I met with this one family. A daughter had passed away, she was a probably 25 or something. I sold the property. And the funeral was scheduled for let's say, Friday. It's Monday, after I sold.
And I got a call from the funeral director saying, ‘We have a problem, Ed.’ And that is the other sister who was about 25 or whatever she was, she just is not able to have her sister buried in the cemetery. She's just, she can't accept that, you know, can't deal with that.
And so I said, ‘Well, let me meet with her.’
And so she came over here and we went over to visit my Sue. And in doing that, I started telling her about other people in here and about their stories. And so, she started to see that it was OK to be here, that her sister would be safe. She'd be with other people who, you know, had passed away, that it was OK. So, by the end of that conversation with her, she had agreed and later in that week, the funeral went forward.”
Willard: “You must take a lot of pride in that moment. I think I would, to help someone else with their loss in their loss and their grief.”
“Yup,” Ed responded. “Actually, I’ll say this, my wife says, curious, but one person said about me that I was the angel in the cemetery because I welcomed people to this kind of, in one sense, very sad place. On the other hand, it was a place where we could honor and visit and enjoy being together. We have a man who comes in to the cemetery and it will sit up on the hill. And basically, spend hours just looking down upon the cemetery, because we have a very nice view up at the top, there are people coming here, or just to sit and to relax. And some of them don't even have relatives or anybody in here that they know, it’s just that they like the feeling of Jonesville Cemetery. It's very homey, pleasant experience here.”
In 2021, Ed was asked by the cemetery board to become superintendent. But after a year, he quit following a disagreement with the board. He stayed involved selling lots until recently.
Earlier this year, Ed saw a story in the news about another nearby cemetery in Saratoga County.
A tree had fallen in the Hillside Cemetery in Burnt Hills, which is now owned and operated by the Town of Ballston after it was abandoned. A woman named Cyndi Owen had visited the cemetery and noticed the downed tree, as well as many leaning and toppled stones.
Ed decided he needed to see the situation himself.
“So, I decided to come over just to look at it. And when the first thing I saw were, so many stones were down, and I just couldn't, I couldn't believe all the stones had fallen over. And I'm not talking about the big ones up in the front…”
What is now the Hillside Cemetery was founded in 1783. It’s smaller than the Jonesville Cemetery and is filled with markers, many close together, many in poor condition.
Like Jonesville, Hillside had its own board until members grew old, or died, and couldn’t continue.
With the town now in ownership of the cemetery, the grass is being cut. And Ed is volunteering his time righting faded, toppled, forgotten headstones.
“This stone here was lying in the grass, as you can see where it was originally. That's a heavy, heavy sucker. But I found ways to get these to stand up. It's not easy.”
For the leaning stones he can’t lift himself, Ed has flagged them with orange tape so they can later be moved with heavy equipment, with the hopeful assistance of a state grant.
“In my case, I'm just doing as many as I can, as fast as I can. I'm now 80-years-old. I feel that as many of these I can get done, with the time I have, I've made a contribution to this place. Cyndi Owen has a group of volunteers. They come in here and they do some things but they're not in the position of dealing with the stones themselves. Because they're, you know, you have to have experience. My experience came from Jonesville because I had fixed stones at Jonesville. So, I had that experience.”
Willard: “So there might be a day when you're in here all by yourself just moving stones?”
“All the time,” Ed said. “I'm here, probably, when I first started because I set a goal for myself for July 4th. I started putting stones up and they were going quite well. So, I said, ‘I will set a goal of 100 stones by July 4th.’ And I did it. I accomplished that. So, I was here every day. And I would spend maybe four hours a day standing up stones. And when I left, I was, well, four more five more, 10 more, you know, and before I knew it, I had reached my 100.”
Willard: “Do you have to go to the to the gym to prepare to do that?”
“I go to the gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays but that's for old people, the old stretch exercise. That's what that's about," laughs Ed.
And it’s not all ancient headstones in Hillside Cemetery. Ed points out a new stone in the front of the property, its shining surface contrasting against its dull neighbors.
“See there's a new stone over there. A brand-new stone. So that tells me there's still life in this cemetery for selling property. Because I can't believe that is the only spot in this whole cemetery where there is an open space to sell.”
Ed works at Hillside because he enjoys it. He has no family buried here. And he wants people to know about the challenges small cemeteries face and encourages people to volunteer.
Standing in the newly mowed grass, Ed recalls a recent drive to view some other small cemeteries in Washington County.
“I go up the road in Hebron, there's a very small cemetery and I remember driving by that, the grass was so high, the stones were being covered up. And I, a couple months ago, I drove by there and the grass was all cut and, ‘Oh my god, that's really impressive.’
This old cemetery. There's no spot for burial. It's just the old cemetery. So, I stopped there. This is a woman in there. She was cleaning a stone. I walked over to. Her name turns out to be Nancy.
And I said, ‘Nancy, why are you involved?’
‘Well,’ she said, ‘This is my cemetery, now. I've taken this over, this is my responsibility. I'm fixing every stone that I can. She doesn't have anybody in there. It's just that she saw that cemetery and in decline, and said, ‘I can do this.’
Individuals, when they make their minds up can make a big difference in cemeteries. We don't want to abandon our cemeteries. These are special spots. We want to honor the people who gave their lives for all of us by contributing in some way to our lives.
Let's honor them, continue to honor them. Let's walk by their stones, read their stones, find out who they were. It's really impressive that you start to get a feeling that these are not cold stones. These are…in a strange way these are people.”
